


a humble embrace (a vulnerable place)

by the_astronomer



Series: so we are always living in the present tense [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Ethan needs a hug, Fluff, Hands, I need a hug, M/M, Mark needs a hug, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Nonverbal Communication, Songfic, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touching, Touchy-Feely, WE need a hug, Yearning, and by mention i also mean like immediately after the channel goes down, can you tell i’m yearning again, half betad the beta reader got emotionally exhausted, handy hands hands, have you ever thought about it, i think it is?? like all my fics are at this point, i wanna hold hands again man, implied sexual content but its just the boys joking around, just a little bit, just a small dash of it, oh to be held........., the dogs pop up a few times, the intimacy of holding hands, unus annus gets mentioned a few times, wtf is a co hoh vid
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-13
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-21 05:08:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30016605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_astronomer/pseuds/the_astronomer
Summary: phys·i·cal in·ti·ma·cy/ˈfizik(ə)l in(t)əməsē/term1. sensual proximity or touching2. what the author hopes this unnecessarily long oneshot has enough of
Relationships: Mark Fischbach/Ethan Nestor
Series: so we are always living in the present tense [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2208174
Comments: 8
Kudos: 43





	a humble embrace (a vulnerable place)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [anteaterrr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/anteaterrr/gifts).



> say you’re open through tears and trembling  
> it’s a major step, it’s okay to fret  
> here’s a safe place to lay your heart down  
> it’s a second chance, it won’t be your last
> 
> -
> 
> [title inspo / breakfast, half•alive ](https://open.spotify.com/track/7tMVc96KA0au5RlWnAE2JK?si=AY4iwEsxQ0Obo93gv9TgSA)

the first thought that popped into ethan’s brain today was hands. just the word. the limb. are hands considered a limb? ethan didn’t know and his eyes were too busy being strained, too busy trying to find out where his phone was. his hand scuttled around his bed and the end table like an ant trying to find food and shelter from the summer heat.

it was on the end table. plugged in. thank fuck.

it was either midnight or ass-crack-o’clock-am and his eyes squinted in response to the unnecessary brightness, sleepily scrambling to turn it down. he blinked once, blinked twice. letting his eyes adjust and flitting to the top of the screen. 

3:18am.

ethan already knew the idea of going back to sleep was futile when he checked his notifications, checking the texts he got from mark first.

8:56pm

**marker e. plier**

_chica misses you_

there was an attachment of her perked up at mark’s desk, watching the stream ethan hosted only a few hours ago.

ethan gave it a quick reaction and let his thumbs wander as he slowly typed up a response.

3:21am

**rats nest(or)**

_tell her i’m gonna pet the heck out of her when i come over later_

he was checking twitter, checking instagram, skimming through youtube when he felt his phone vibrate in his hands again, looking up to ‘marker e. plier loved “ _tell her i’m gonna pet the heck out of her when i come over later_ ”’

3:26am

**rats nest(or)**

_what are you doing up_

the imessage typing bubble comes up. the briefest little buzz shoots out.

3:26am

**marker e. plier**

_editing_

3:27am

**rats nest(or)**

_go bed_

the hands thought came back as soon as he put the phone down. there’s no other noise, no other vibration from the bedside table, so he can only hope mark listened and went to bed. at least for ethan. that’s a nice thought to have.

ethan doesn’t know what was up with his brain and hands all of a sudden, though. so he’s moving them from his sides to above his face. flexing the fingers and turning them back and forth a few times. back of the hand, palm, back of the hand, palm. the medical bracelet clinked against his wrist and glinted in the dark from the nearby windows. back of the hand. palm again.

his fingers have a mind of their own. his right fingers trace his left’s palm lines and run against the webs between his fingers, picking at scabs he _should_ be leaving alone right now. his hands have done a lot for only being around for roughly 2 decades, give or take. they’ve been on things and in things he’d rather not disclose. was it this one or the right hand that he broke again?

palm of one hand on the back of another.

it reminded him of mark.

ethan narrows his eyes as he let the right hand’s fingers dip into the space his left hand left behind, sighing through his nose as he gave it a squeeze. it’s too dumb of an idea to just roll up to his boyfriend’s house at 3am when he’s _probably_ asleep, just so they can hold hands. ethan’s brain isn’t letting it rest, though.

he let the hands flop to his lap and he turns to his side, pawing around before grabbing a pillow. the two of them have talked about moving in together recently, but it’s still just another idea that would probably be forgotten for the next few months. at least until the channel goes.

the pillow can substitute for a body for another few months.

the next time ethan opened his eyes it was to spencer nosing his way into his arms. a hand moved on its own and scratched behind his ears gently as he grabbed his phone again. it was a more reasonable hour now, something along the lines of 9am. sunlight leaking in and dancing on the walls in shades of gold and copper. the sun is kind when it does that, ethan thought.

a quick picture wouldn’t hurt.

9:07am

**rats nest(or)**

_spence says hi_

he’s carefully nudging his dog off his body so he can sit upright and stretch, doing grabby hands at nothing when his phone goes off again.

9:08am

**marker e. plier**

_you’re lucky you’re cute_

_i can’t just film by myself_

_get your ass over here_

9:08am

**rats nest(or)**

_:-)_

* * *

ethan didn’t have to worry about knocking much anymore since he was given a spare key.

one hand wrapped around spencer’s leash and the other fumbled at the lock. letting out a breathy chuckle at the sounds of chica scuttling on the floor and towards the door, barking almost immediately at the idea of a visitor.

it still doesn’t change the fact he tries not to fall off the steps once he gets the door open because his boyfriend’s dog seemed to be more excited to see him than her own parent in recent days. ..parent, right? technically?

ethan stumbled and twirled his way inside, laughing all the way as he unclips the leash and lets spencer wander the house, hands immediately in chica’s fur and giving a few generous pets.

“hello to you too, beeks!”

he used his foot to close the door behind him.

it went on for another moment or two before he sent the dog on her way to find her buddy, standing up straight, startled to find mark right in front of him. ethan knows it’s his house and all but _jesus_ can he be silent on his feet.

“so you’re gonna say hi to my dog before your own boyfriend?” mark’s tone was teasing but gentle, clearly too tired to be functioning right now. he definitely didn’t go to bed like ethan told him to.

ethan snorted. “shut up,” his arms wounding around mark’s waist anyway, chin resting on his shoulder. “at least your dog was excited to see me.”

mark rolled his eyes, planting a quick peck on ethan’s cheek and pulling away from the hug, maybe glancing down as he felt some fur brush by his leg before back to ethan. “my bad, let me just..”

ethan tilted his head as he watched mark disappear around the corner, a giggle bubbling up in his throat as he saw mark’s face poke out with wide eyes and a maniacal grin.

“oh _hello_ ethan, the light of my life!”

“you don’t have to be a smartass about it!”

“oh, ethan’s here?”

amy’s face popped out above mark’s, smiling and giving him a wave, one which ethan returned with a grin.

“hi, amy.”

“hi, ethan.” she glanced to the side before bringing her arm back around, bowl of kernels in hand and having mark duck under her so he can move out of her way. “what’s your opinion on popcorn?

* * *

“hey, ethan?”

ethan perked up, finishing on washing off whatever the fuck this hair stuff was in the sink and making his way out of the bathroom. he guessed amy was in the kitchen. she was.

“..that’s a lot of fruit.”

“i’ve had it sitting around for a while now and wanted to use it while it was still fresh.” she hummed, pointing to a bowl full of it, cut up into little cubes and slices the like. “can you bring that up to mark?”

ethan nodded and took it into his hands, looking at it and maybe stealing a strawberry. what mark doesn’t know won’t kill him. “..has mark been actin’ weird for you too or is it a me thing?”

“no, he has.” ethan relaxed at that, though he’s still a little tense at how worried amy’s starting to look. “he’s been like this for a few days now.”

i mean, she’s his housemate, she knows more about this than ethan probably does. “so you want me to give this to him and hope he at least talks to me about it?”

“basically.”

ethan looked at the stairs, back to amy, back to the stairs before making his way up. slowing down when he nears mark’s recording room, giving the door a gentle knock.

there’s a noise of movement. “yea?”

“it’s ethan. can i come in?”

there was a hum of confirmation. ethan carefully nudged the door open, peeking inside before stepping in.

“do you want me to close the door behind me?”

a thumbs up. ethan furrowed his brows at the lack of words as he scans the room before finding a chair, setting the fruit bowl down on the desk and moving to grab it, closing the door gently while he goes.

he sets the chair up next to mark and takes the bowl again, sitting down without much noise, watching mark edit the footage they took not even 20 minutes ago. has he blinked at all?

“..amy cut up some fruit and told me to bring you a bowl, so..” ethan started before quickly trailing off, setting the bowl back onto the desk and (hopefully) in mark’s peripheral vision. away from the expensive technology. mark only glanced at it, maybe taking the fork and poking around at it before stabbing it into a watermelon cube. he never ate it, though.

alarms rang and reverberated inside ethan’s skull but he can’t find the reason _why_ , all he knew was that _there’s a problem_ and _he needs to fix it before it crashes and burns up in front of him_.

the chair was a little closer now and ethan hesitated, resting his cheek on mark’s shoulder and noticing how his hand immediately, subtly tenses up around the mouse.

ethan moves his head away.

mark relaxes.

the alarms are getting louder and it’s starting to give him a headache.

which gave him the bright idea to minimize the window in front of mark while his hands were busy with the keyboard. it’s the first proper look (it’s sour, but at least there’s eye contact) mark has given ethan since this morning.

“..it’s not like i closed it completely.”

“what do you want?”

“for you to tell me what’s wrong.”

“i’m just having an off day, eth,” mark’s eyes are back on the monitor. “it’s nothing.”

“did you ever go to bed like i told you earlier?” one hand’s carefully spinning mark’s chair so at least his body faced in front of him. mark’s head was still turned towards the screen. “you’ve looked the most—.. _dull_ during unus annus since we started. y’got eyebags, mark, _c’mon_ ,”

“ethan-“

“have you been eating at all? did something happen that you won’t tell me about? you’ve been avoiding _amy_ when you can.”

“ _ethan_ —“

“stop looking at the monitor—“

“—stop _talking_.”

mark’s voice wasn’t threatening in the slightest and ethan couldn’t tell if that was worse. it’s strained and weak and being pulled apart at the seams with alternating shaky sighs and near-desperate, silent gasps for air.

ethan’s hands peeled away from the arm rests and found a hesitant home in his lap, fumbling with whatever bracelet he had on this week. not the medical one. this one was more friendship-bracelet-from-2005-esque.

mark’s eyes still hadn’t left the monitor. ethan was scared of speaking up but not because of fear of being harmed himself - more of fear of harming mark. he doubted that a lot of sound would be good for mark’s ears right now. so he’ll improvise.

ethan watched mark’s eyes for another moment before slowly and as non-threateningly-as-possible reaching a hand out in front of them. a considerable distance away so he wouldn’t spook him. his hopes rose just a little as he watched dark brown flick to pale hands.

ethan pointed towards his general direction, watching as the eyes traced up his arm and the shoulder before reluctantly, properly facing the other. ethan’s hands are back on his lap, palms out and open in case mark wants to hold them. or, one palm, the other’s pointing at his ear and giving a thumbs up or a thumbs down. asking if it’s okay to speak, asking if it’s a sound overload he’s having. up if it’s good, down if it’s bad.

thumbs down. 

the other palm was back on his lap.

they sat there for a few minutes before ethan saw mark shift in his seat, watching as his hands gingerly reach out towards his partner’s. ethan knows better not to rush ahead, knows to just let mark do his thing when he’s ready for it. they don’t touch past the fingertips and that’s okay.

it became a push and pull kinda thing. ethan breathes in, mark breathes out. mark breathes in, ethan breathes out. ethan breathes in, mark breathes out. mark breathes in, ethan breathes out. the gentle movement of the tides on the shore on a good day.

it was another few minutes before mark tapped a palm to get ethan’s attention, pointing at his ear and giving a thumbs up.

ethan broke the silence as soon as it’s allowed.

“is it okay if i can hold your hands?”

mark hesitated before nodding.

“are you sure?”

“i’m sure.”

ethan glanced down before taking mark’s hands into his own, slowly running a thumb over a knuckle or two. rubbing the tension away from his body one stroke at a time.

“do you want to talk about it or do you want me to distract you until you’re ready to talk about it?” ethan looked up and immediately softened (more than he already was) as he only now noticed how red mark’s nose became, eyes shining sadly with what ethan can only guess was tears he’s forcing back.

“..i wanna talk about it.”

“you don’t have to lie to me, y’know—”

mark gave him a wet chuckle and a gentle, playful slap on the wrist, though he’s immediately back to letting his hands be held. “i wanna get it over with, i wanna talk about it.”

ethan could only chuckle as he continued to run his thumb in slow circles. “do you want me to guess what’s wrong first so you don’t gotta say it out loud?”

a nod.

“does it have anything to do with amy?” 

another nod.

“is that it?”

a shake. 

“..is it related to the channel?” 

a nod.

“the channel itself or the people involved?”

“both.”

“editors?”

a nod.

“have they been mean to you?” it’s teasing, they’re both well aware they owe the editors everything and more. unus annus would practically be nothing without them.

“it’s more a me problem than a them problem.”

“anything on the personal end?”

a hesitant nod.

“how personal?”

“it’s just mom and alex.”

“..is that why y’were poking at the fruit and not eating it?”

mark sucked the air in through his teeth and squawked out a quiet and nervous ‘i’m not _sure?_ i _think?_ ’

ethan gave the hands a gentle squeeze. “does anything of what i just said contribute to the all-nighters you’ve probably been pulling?”

“just constantly editing.”

“do you wanna talk about it first and we can go from there?”

another nod and a sharp inhale.

they sat in silence for a few awkward moments as mark tried to find his footing with the right words to say, maybe moving his chair just a little to be closer to ethan. he’s suddenly craving touch and ethan doesn’t question it.

“..alright,” ethan hummed, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to think of something to make this easier. “how about this, _why_ are you pulling all nighters to edit?”

another beat before mark attempted to get something, _anything_ out. “i-.. well-.. y’know how i said it’s more a me problem than a them problem?”

“mhm.”

“i know in hindsight it’s stupid to get worked up about since it can easily be solved just by communicating,” mark murmured, looking at the hands again. “it’s just that lixian’s upset that i haven’t been giving him enough time or raw footage to edit, that’s really it.”

“well then maybe you should talk to him about that.”

“..and-.. and maybe it’s because i don’t want him to worry about helping both _my_ channel and unus annus at the same time and that i don’t want him to be mad again that i’ve kinda just—” mark pulled his hands away for a moment and looked up at ethan, gesticulating, mostly towards the monitor. “threw myself into some editing hyperfocus and suddenly it’s 8am the next day and we’re supposed to be filming the next set of videos in an hour.”

ethan let the soak in through his skin and started to fumble with the bracelet again now that his hands were empty. that explains a lot of things, really. “y’know i can always talk to lixian about this if you don’t want to. i have his number, i can just—”

“i think it’s more of a thing i gotta handle than you do.” mark’s smiling for the first time in hours. it’s weak and a little trembly but it’s still something and it makes ethan’s heart light up regardless. “..the all nighters are why i’ve kinda been avoiding amy, anyways.”

ethan didn’t have to ask about that since he’s connecting the dots in his brain anyway.

“she cares about you, y’know.”

“i know.”

ethan looked over to the desk and carefully took the fruit bowl, handing it to mark. “and she didn’t cut all this up for nothing, c’mon.”

mark rolled his eyes and let out a huffy laugh, muttering a soft ‘okay, _mom_ ’ as he took the fork in his hand again, finally eating that watermelon cube he poked at earlier and then some more.

“how is your mom, anyway?”

“keeps asking me to visit korea again.” a piece of honeydew prevents the words from leaving his mouth properly.

“don’t speak with your mouth full.”

mark looked at him with narrowed eyes as he swallowed. ethan snorted quietly. “i don’t want you to choke on your food.”

“you can choke on my _dick_.”

“i already have, _dipshit_.”

mark snorted before he let out his first proper, _loud_ laugh in maybe weeks, momentarily forgetting about the bowl. ethan scrambled to grab it before it fell out of his hands and onto the floor. and ethan grins, and his cheeks started to hurt a little bit from the tension in his smile muscles, but he didn’t care much. or at all. his little mission of cheering mark up was working and he’s proud of himself.

the bowl was slowly placed back onto the desk and mark’s laugh died out into little chuckles, hiding his face and his elbows propped up on the arm rests. ethan slowly leaned over and wrapped his fingers around the wrists, peeling them away slowly to be met with teary eyes. they weren’t sad lookin’ anymore, at least.

“stop hiding y’face, i wanna see you.” ethan cooed.

“you’re seeing me.” mark shimmed his wrists out of ethan’s hold, humming. his face scrunched playfully and he murmured a teasing ‘ew’ when ethan gave him a quick smooch. a peck, if you will.

ethan flopped back into his own seat and brought his legs up, sitting criss cross apple sauced. “..so y’also said something about alex?”

“he’s just mad i’m breaking my diet and overexercising to distract myself from everything else i just told you about.”

“and i wonder _why_.”

mark looked at him with mocked shock, a hand clutching his heart dramatically. “this is _my_ therapy session and i will _not_ take any unnecessary comments, _ethan_.”

ethan’s trying to spin himself around in the office chair with no legs, rolling his eyes with a playful scoff before looking at the desk, back to mark.

“are we done, then? i’m not getting paid for this and frankly i think it’s unfair.”

he’s joking, i promise. it’s evidenced in the smile he’s doing a very shitty job at trying to hide.

mark paused to let the system boot up, hesitating before making a soft ‘ _oh_ ’ once he remembered, searching ethan’s eyes. “the channel.”

ethan’s trying to scoot the chair closer without knocking anything over. it’s kinda failing. “what about it?”

mark just uses a free hand to drag the chair closer before he trips over a stray wire and breaks his nose.

it was another moment of silence before ethan watched mark reach over to the monitor to maximize the editing window that was closed just a few minutes ago, the two of them met with the white timer pitted up against the black screen.

91:11:59:59

“..3 more months.”

“give or take.”

they both stared at the clock before ethan minimized it again so he could make himself look away. mark followed suit and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“on one hand i honestly can’t wait for this to be over,” his voice was softening again, starting to pick at the skin around his nails. “less of a weight on my back, i wouldn’t have to panic over it when i get too busy with something related to my own channel or something like that.”

“and on the other hand you don’t want it to go?”

“..and on the other hand i don’t want it to go.”

the channel’s done a lot for the two of them. there’s not enough words to explain why they want to hold on just a little longer.

a beat.

“..well— if it makes you feel better,” ethan starts. “i’m definitely gonna be bawling like a baby when the cameras shut off after we do whatever we’re gonna do on the final day.”

a snort, followed with a giggle. “you promise?”

“ _and_ you can take as many embarrassing pictures as you want.”

a playful punch to ethan’s arm. “i’m not _that_ mean.”

“i’m literally _telling_ you you can!”

“and i don’t think you realize the _power_ that you’re giving me with that statement. the _lengths_ i will go to make sure _every picture i take_ of you on november 13th—”

mark suddenly grabbed at the desk in a desperate attempt not to be knocked over, making a noise of shock (genuinely, this time) as ethan’s arms were suddenly around his shoulders, hearing ethan’s chair roll away just slightly from the sudden movement of leaving it. mark’s own chair tipped back a little before ethan forced it to sit flat on the wheels.

“..ethan, i’m old and i’m not in the mood to break anything.” his arms are wrapping around ethan’s frame anyway. his head’s leaning against ethan's anyway. ethan leans against him in return anyway.

“31 isn’t old.”

“my bones ache and cry with every movement i make, i’m _old_.”

“you just have fucked up bones, then. too dense for your own good.”

mark didn’t know if exhaustion was finally creeping up on him or what. the tension he didn’t know he had held in was releasing and he’s going soft, starting to nestle into his lover’s hold. letting his eyes properly close since maybe last night. or the night before that, he’d long forgotten.

but ethan didn’t mind. it’s been a rough few days. he’ll hold him up.

* * *

august 14th, 2020

_47 messages from rats nest(or)_

1:08am

**rats nest(or)**

_hi_

_my bad if this wakes you up_

_if it does ur not allowed to reply until u go back to sleep and wake up later_

_dont ask why im up if i knew id tell u_

_anyways_

_i know you said that you should probably talk to lix by urself_

_because yknow_

_hes your favorite editor_

_im kidding_

_but youve been so out of it lately that i wanted to take some of the weight off_

_hold on_

_hold on_

_lemme find the screenshots_

1:12am

**rats nest(or)**

_[attachment: 3 images]_

_yea that_

_hes not mad_

_he gets it_

_fried brain not good for the body yknow??_

_for mom and alex tho_

_thats a u problem_

_obviously i dont have ur moms number_

_and im not close with alex like you are_

_because hes your trainer n all_

_tell him i said hi_

_but yknow i got ur back with all this right?_

_so does amy_

_and the editors_

_and everyone_

_ok maybe not everyone_

_but just_

_baby steps_

_we all got bad days_

_and ill try and make ur bad days not-so-bad days_

_maybe even good ones if im nice haha_

_i like to think im funny_

_deep in ur soul i know u think im funny too_

_god i hope ur phones on dnd_

_spamming the fuck outta it_

_love you_

_mwah mwah_

_ill be over tomorrow at like 10ish with spence so the dongs can hang out_

_not dongs_

_dogs_

_i mean_

_unless_

_sorry_

_love you marker <3 _

10:08am

**rats nest(or)**

_you awake at all?_

10:17am

**marker e. plier**

_i love you so fucking much_

10:17am

**rats nest(or)**

_cool now lemme in_

_i think my key got jammed in the lock_

* * *

“you ever think about hands, mark?”

mark looked over from his spot from the couch and tilted his head, watching ethan do his thing in the kitchen. he’s looking through the drawers. looking for something that mark doesn't know he needs. “..hands?”

“ya know,” ethan looked up, shaking his in the air for mark to see. “these things.”

“i know what hands are,” there’s a sudden warmth to mark’s left side and his hand absentmindedly runs through spencer’s fur. chica’s at home with amy. they’re at ethan’s, currently. kathryn’s nowhere to be seen.“i _don’t_ know what the hell you mean by thinking about them.”

ethan gestured at nothing, going back to his hopeless search. where the hell are the forks? he just bought some. he’s checked the dishwasher and the trash cans (because god forbid he accidentally threw them out) already. nothing. “y’know, just-.. hands! y’know? they do a buncha things and we don’t even think ’bout it.” fuck it, spoon will do.

mark watched as ethan set his plate up, looking to his face with confusion.

“are you really gonna eat cake with a spoon?”

ethan turned 24 a few days ago. there’s 18 days until the stream. ideas are being tossed around for when halloween approaches.

“there’s no forks.”

ethan made his way over to the couch and sat next to mark and spencer, setting his plate down on the table and opening up his laptop. more editing. more last minute details for unus annus as they enter the last two weeks.

one hand slid into mark’s and his muscles relaxed when he felt mark’s thumb start to rub slow circles into his skin.

“your hands are soft.” it’s a gentle hum from mark’s throat, leaning in to try and see what’s on the screen. save for the stupid glare in the way.

“thanks. it’s called lotion, y’crusty fuck.”

mark snorted and ethan’s eyes lit up as he looked over, giggling with him as he sat back, bringing the laptop to his lap. (lap is in the name for a reason.) “and this is coming from the _same guy_ who told me ‘god help any woman you ever finger’.”

“your hands being bony and your hands being soft are two different things!”

“do you _think_ women want ole _sandpaper fingers_ going up in there? _huh_?” ethan pulls his hand out of mark’s and holds his wrist, showing mark his own palm, shaking it loosely. “have you _ever_ invested in lotion in a day in your life?”

mark’s starting to hide his face in his free hand and yet his grin has poked through regardless. “it’s for grip!”

“ _grip_?” ethan squawks, mark throws his head back to laugh at it. ethan’s face hurts from smiling. “you gripping the pussy walls my guy? what the _hell_ did you put amy through?”

mark’s the one shimmying his hand out of ethan’s hold this time, one hand pointing at him shakily while trying to level his voice. his back came in contact with the cushions somewhere along the way and he didn’t even notice. “don’t bring her into this— do _not_ —”

spencer hopped off the couch to go do his own thing (and to avoid being squashed) as ethan clambered over mark, the laptop made its way back onto the table again somewhere in the fray. the light from the window is blinding them both but ethan thinks mark looks pretty in it. ethan shielded his eyes anyway.

mark hesitates to open his eyes as the laughter dies down and looks up when he does. ethan’s looks at him back, smiling and asking a soft ‘you okay?’

ethan’s talking about the eye shield but mark’s thinks about everything else. he nods anyway. why wouldn’t he be?

“..so what’s the whole hand thing you were starting to talk about earlier?”

“oh,” ethan looks at his free hand, wiggling his fingers a bit. “it’s kinda been in my mind for a few months now, actually. how they do so much, and—.. y’know. been on a bunch of stuff, touched a bunch of stuff, _made_ a bunch of stuff—”

“held a bunch of stuff?”

“that too.”

they both go quiet again and the silence hangs over them, save for the occasional noise from spencer as he roams the house and the laptop fan humming quietly as a comforting constant.

ethan carefully removes the hand shielding mark’s eyes and he squints just a little at the sudden brightness. it doesn't hurt, though, and he makes sure ethan knows it. he’s kinda glad it doesn’t, it brings out mark’s eyes without doing anything at all.

mark slowly pressed a palm against one of ethan’s, watching as he started to look intently at each individual curve, each palm line barely peeking out of mark’s hands. out of his own hands. ethan never really noticed how rough mark’s were compared to his own. or how wide. ethan’s were longer by only a few centimeters. 

ethan steals a kiss and mark smiles into it, fingers interlocking on one hand and the other slowly climbing up ethan’s arm and gently placing itself on the back of his neck, fumbling with the hair there. ethan flinched at the movement, it tickled.

he pulls away and mark takes note on how ethan seemed to glow in the sunlight. green eyes (or really light brown? mark can’t tell) shining with affection.

“you fuck with my neck and i fuck with yours, it’s only fair.”

“..eth, _no—_ ”

mark’s warning is futile as ethan ducks down to kiss it anyway, reveling in the noises mark makes as he tries to squirm away to no avail. ethan’s locked him in and he’s not letting either of them go anytime soon.

“ _stop_ stopstop— _fuck_! ethan—ethanethan _ethan_ ethan—”

mark manages to get ethan off with a few smacks to the chest. he can’t stay mad at him. not with the stupid fucking grin on his face and how the fucked up tooth he has makes it all the more charming.

“..hi mark.”

and with how fucking _chripy_ he can get when he’s so happy. it’s almost sing-songy. like the birds in his backyard in the early morning in the middle of july.

“hi _asshole_.”

and his laugh. his stupid fuckin’ contagious laugh.

ethan looks behind himself to the laptop and the unattended cake slice after things calm down, back to mark before carefully starting to climb off of him. mark’s hands shoot out to stop him before he can even think about it.

ethan looked back over, concerned, head tilting to the side.

mark hesitates before he can think of a proper excuse on why he wants to keep the physical contact. “..we’re a few days ahead of schedule, ‘m sure you can take a break for now.”

and they are. they have several videos (planned and backups) up to the 28th on standby.

ethan eyed the limited space between mark and the couch before shimmying himself in there, causing mark to reflexively move to laying on his side.

“what are you doing?”

“spooning you, now move forward a lil.”

mark did what he was asked without much complaint, ethan slotting one leg in between mark’s and the other hooking around his hip. his arms were slipping around his waist and his chin placing itself on his shoulder. mark’s head leaned back and fit itself into the open crook of ethan’s neck.

ethan doesn’t even realize how quickly he was dozing off when he suddenly feels mark take one of his hands and hold it up against the light. studying the subsurface scattering and how the fingers curve just a little oddly.

“was this the hand you broke?” mark’s voice is a ghosting whisper, glancing behind himself slightly as his thumb slowly runs against the slight callus on ethan’s palm that years of gymnastics caused.

“might’ve been the other one.” ethan gently shook his right hand, the metal bracelet jingling quietly. “it’s been a while.”

mark brings the hand he’s holding to his lips and gives a knuckle a gentle kiss before he’s back to exploring. neatly clipped nails, one chewed to oblivion. (it’s his thumb.) scuffled remains of black nailpolish. or black with some iridescent shine, it’s too faded to tell. the skin has the very faint scent of artificial vanilla bean. mark half remembers seeing the vibrant green bottle of bath and body works hand soap in the bathroom earlier. he doesn’t remember where ethan got it from, especially at this time of year, vanilla bean noel is a holiday scent.

ethan’s free hand slowly clambered up mark’s side, passing the shoulders and taking a detour on his back until the fingers were combing through his hair slowly. mark leans into the touch without even realizing.

“do you think if y’hair gets long enough, i can braid it?”

“i don’t think my hair’s gonna get much longer than this.”

“you don’t know that.” ethan massages the scalp gently. mark likes it. “all the hair salons can shut down all of a sudden, or something like that.”

“in what situation?”

“zombie apocalypse, maybe an epidemic. stuck inside for months on end and you can’t trust yourself with children’s craft scissors by your face,” it’s really nice that’s not a situation we’re currently going through and that it’s all hypothetical. _haha_. “would you let me braid your hair then?”

“in what situation would i only have children’s craft scissors?”

“because amy can’t trust you with the big boy ones.”

mark can _feel_ the shit eating smirk palpating off of ethan’s aura as soon as the words leave his mouth. mark reached behind himself and gave a soft, playful slap to ethan’s side. he does the stupid laugh again, coupled with a squeaky ‘hey!’

mark hugs ethan’s left arm close to his chest anyway. “..only if we’re stuck inside together.”

“i can live with that.”

he eventually leaves the hair alone and his hand finds solace in one of mark’s, taking it into his own and doing the thumb thing again. planting the occasional kiss to mark’s jaw and smiling when he moves to try and give ethan a better angle.

“you’re very touch receptive today.”

“is that a bad thing?” mark’s teasing, giving ethan a side glace and smiling when he hesitates, not really expecting that kind of answer. the way he fumbles over words is just a little bit endearing.

“i—.. no, that’s not-.. not at all.”

mark nudges at ethan’s legs with his own and mumbles a soft ‘move ya legs’, waiting for them to slip away. they do, and mark’s awkwardly trying to turn himself around so he can lay on his other side, wanting to meet ethan face to face. a hand is reflexively pressed against the small of his back, ethan doesn’t want him to tumble off the couch and hit his head on the table on the way down.

he also helped fix mark’s shirt after all the jostling around.

“..hiya.”

“hey there.”

mark’s glad he turned around. so is ethan.

ethan looked down to their hands again, mark’s specifically, slowly taking one into his. he knows he just joked about them being sandpapery for no reason other than “ _grip_ ”, but he kinda likes the physical contrast between them both. soft on rough, rough on soft. mark’s a very hands-on kind of guy regardless of what he does, anyway.

it’s ethan’s turn to put one of mark’s hands up to the light, though this time it’s directly in the light streaming into the house from the outside, tan skin giving off a warmer glow than ethan thinks he himself ever could.

a thumb runs against the calluses. they’re thicker than his own, built up from years of physical work and some guitar playing. there’s slight scarring from childhood accidents and a small piece of graphite embedded into his palm. they always seem to be warm, too, there’s been several instances in the past year where ethan forgot to bring gloves for the winter chill and he would easily slip a palm into mark’s and he didn’t have to worry about a thing.

the realization hits ethan again that hands just.. _are_. they _exist_. _everything exists_. _he_ exists. so many things to be touched and held and petted and made and _created_ in so little _time_. so much that can be _done_. evolution has come this far for humans and other walks of life and it allows him to do _this_ with anybody he wants to.

it’s kind of like a pleasant sensory overload at the realization. the one that sends a nice little shudder through your nervous system as you really think about something that’s so small in physicality but so large in hindsight. where it doesn’t even scare you and leaves some sort of fuzzy feeling of unknown peace in your chest instead.

mark noticed because of how ethan just seemed to freeze up during the whole thing, looking over worriedly and giving him a gentle nudge with a free hand, startled as ethan jumped back to reality for a moment.

mark murmurs a soft ‘you okay?’ and relaxes as his lover nods and gives him a lopsided grin, his eyes crinkling (one just a little more than the other) as the muscles pulled and the slightest, faded dusting of freckles make a subtle appearance on his cheeks as the sunlight hits his face just right.

“just remembered how pretty your hands are.” and ethan’s not entirely lying. they are pretty. even if mark just needs some lotion.

“you just complained about them being dry, though.” mark hummed, looking up at said hand and giggling when ethan shoved him playfully.

“your hands being pretty and your hands being the physical embodiment of sandpaper are two different things.”

ethan doesn’t know what eldritch being of bad timing possessed him (or good, depends on the person) but his mouth was moving before he could stop it, getting out a half-assed jingle and his grin growing wider as he realized what was happening.

“mr—.. sandpaper-.. man—“

“oh my _god_.”

“..why are you sand?”

ethan gave mark small jabs in place for the little ‘ba bum bum bum’s and mark could only watch. he’s got the face where ethan says something inconceivably but affectionately stupid. it would look like disgust mixed with shock to an outside point of view (and they’re not totally off the mark), but there’s a grin hidden in there. waiting to come out.

“get him some lotion, so he can unsand.”

more light jabs. there’s the grin.

mark let the hand in the air drop so he can properly clamber over ethan, who’s now looking up at him and giggling. loudly, at that. his resolve is gone, he can’t continue.

mark could only stare at him fondly with a small smile as a hand goes up and pushes the hair out of ethan’s face.

“what’s the matter, chuckles.”

“i don’t _know_.”

and ethan really doesn’t. he’s been getting decent sleep and eating decent food and doing decent people things recently.

the answer is good enough for mark anyway, who’s leaning down to return ethan’s earlier favor and kissing his jaw slowly, down the neck carefully. not wanting to set anything off towards that direction. neither of them are really in the mood for it.

ethan slowly and loosely wraps his arms around mark’s neck and does his best to lean into the kisses, his cheek eventually and briefly finding home on mark’s shoulder and his eyes shutting for just a moment.

somewhere along the way mark’s head just rests on ethan’s chest with hands gently tucked up into his shirt, tracing random patterns slowly into pale skin while ethan’s hands slowly comb through mark’s hair again.

_(‘if you wanna fuck i would prefer if we didn’t do it on the couch.’_

_‘am i_ not _allowed to_ lovingly _caress my boyfriend?’_ )

(they’ve been together since maybe january, or december, the holidays were a blur, and the word still shoots something pleasant up ethan’s spine. boyfriend. boy _friends_. imagine that?)

ethan’s eyes open as just the tiniest slit and watches as the light dances on mark’s skin and shines a bit of color into his hair. his eyes are almost closed, glancing up at ethan with warmth and murky darkness. they don't do all the pretty things in the light like poets and artists and creatives lived them up to be in the last century or several, and ethan decided he loves them _more_ because of that. they’re more comforting that way. more welcoming. ethan thinks they can rival the night sky and win all without the help of the sun or the stars.

it makes mark more _mark_.

speaking of, he gives ethan a half-smile once he realizes he’s staring. ethan notices the slightest dimple that forms on the left side of his face. ethan’s left, mark’s right. that wasn’t there before. not noticeably.

“you like what you see?”

“a lot, actually.”

their voices are low and rumbly with inklings of sleepiness bleeding into them. mark has more of a rasp, ethan’s more whispered and hushed.

the sun is warm on their skin.

* * *

november 13th, 2020

10:34am

**unus**

_[attachment: 1 image]_

_i think i look fuckin sexy ngl_

10:36 am

**annus**

_you look like shit_

_have you slept since you left my house yesterday_

10:36am

**unus**

_[attachment: 1 image]_

_i’m approaching hour 23 of being awake why_

_is it obvious_

10:37am

**annus**

_jfc_

_you need to find better concealer_

_i’m gonna be over in like half an hour with amy so we can all get to the studio together_

10:38am

**unus**

_carpool :-)_

10:38am

**annus**

_i don’t want you to get in an accident because your sleep deprived ass can’t drive_

10:38am

**unus**

_wait someone’s gonna be at your place watching chica and henry right_

10:39am

**annus**

_yea why_

10:39am

**unus**

_can i drop spencer off there before we go_

* * *

the clock finally stops.

the cameras stopped rolling a few minutes ago, the live was gone.

everything’s gone, anyways. unus annus wise.

their hands can’t stop shaking.

amy looked behind herself to look at the tv, taking a deep breath before looking at mark, looking at ethan.

ethan’s fingers are still hovering over the trackpad while mark’s hands were fumbling on his knees. both their eyes still glued to the screen.

amy has two hands for a reason.

the couple flinched back to the present in unison, snapping up to face each other with wide eyes, and then to amy, who’s holding both of their hands. her left to ethan’s, her right to mark’s.

“you two okay?”

“..i think so—”

“ _absolutely_ not.”

ethan let out a soaked giggle and his free hand was starting to hide his face, trying to rub any premature tears away on his arm. “everything hit me all at once, i’m sorry. i’ll be alright.”

he felt amy squeeze his hand and he squeezed back.

there were talks of doing last minute pictures and ethan excused himself to go wash his face so it wouldn’t ‘look like he was on the verge of a breakdown’, leaving mark and amy to mingle on their own until he came back.

they may have called it off between the two of them years ago but they still both leaned on and into each other like it was second nature. amy already knew mark was thankful for her the moment this whole thing started (and even beforehand, _especially_ beforehand) yet he’s still spilling out a million ‘ _thank you’_ s all at once.

“..did you like your bug watch?”

“i loved it.”

ethan’s back after a few minutes and both their arms flew open in sync to add him into the group hug without a second thought. their third puzzle piece clicked in with ease as soon as he sunk into them and snapped his arms around both their waists.

pictures are taken. cleanup is helped with. the lights are going dark and amy said she’ll wait for them in the car. mark hands her the keys so she can get in without a struggle.

mark and ethan are the last ones to exit the building, closing the heavy door that acts as a back entrance and the two of them standing under a single fluorescent light bulb. it’s one of those old, raggedy, yellow tinged ones.

november’s taking it’s time cooling down in LA, it’s a comfortable 50 something degrees fahrenheit, maybe. they don’t go for the car immediately.

somewhere in the silence ethan grips mark’s hand hard, causing the older one to look over, concerned and wincing just a little in pain.

“..eth?”

“y-.. yh’know how—.. y’know how i joked that i would-.. be bawling like a baby when every—.. everything’s done?”

he didn’t need to say anything else. the tears were already flowing and mark wasted no time.

mark’s arms were already secured on ethan’s shoulders while ethan’s snapped around mark’s body like one of those snapping bracelet things you would get at scholastic book fairs. the ones where you pull back the fabric and the bracelet was just part of a tape measure cut off from the rest of the ruler.

face in shoulder. hands grabbing anything they could (mostly just the suit on mark’s back). something to hold onto in case the world suddenly disappeared under his feet.

he knew this day was coming from the start and told himself not to get too attached. he told everyone he was at peace that an important chunk of his life, a chunk that was put up to the world, was slipping out of his fingers to the sands of time not even 12 hours ago and he _was_ , for a brief little moment.

neither of them don’t know who started the rocking side-to-side bit but ethan appreciates it regardless, his muffled sobs slowly being reduced to the occasional cough and hiccup over the course of a few minutes. he’s been awake for.. what, 36 hours at this point?

mark gently hushed him if the wails threatened to bubble over in ethan’s throat again, one hand rubbing slow strokes into his back and giving it a pat or several if the coughing got too rough.

ethan’s first words are rough around the edges and strained like his vocal chords. “i probably fuckin ruined y’suit, ‘m sorry.”

“honestly? i don’t know when i’m gonna wear this again regardless, don’t worry about it.”

because who just casually wears white suits?

ethan’s feet refuse to move from where they’re planted. mark’s fine with that.

his free hand slowly graced up the back of ethan’s neck to the hair at the nape, playing with it carefully. lips brush the shell of his ear and whispered sweet nothings to help him calm down.

there’s a comforting silence as mark puts the words on pause and moves so he can give the cheek another feather-light kiss or two before he starts to speak again.

“..ethan, can you look at me real quick?”

“my face probably looks gross.”

“i’ve seen worse from you.”

ethan can’t really argue with that.

it’s hesitant but he does it, sniffling up. his eyes bleary and shining in the harsh lighting. face all blotchy and red, you get the gist. mark’s hands are square on his shoulders. the weakest little smile slowly etches into his face as his eyes open and lift from the ground up.

their eyes meet and for the briefest little moment mark was back at the panel. where they’re both just a few years younger and ethan’s starry eyed with awe and a breath of fresh air.

“you look like you’re ready to cry, mark.”

mark blinks again and chuckles dryly as he moves a hand to wipe his incoming tears away with his wrist. “i’m having a moment, shut up.”

“i bawled into your shoulder for like 5 minutes straight, c’mon, it’s only fair.”

“i’m gonna be the one driving.”

“then cry in the shower or some shit when we get home, i don’t know.”

mark gave ethan a gentle shove as he smiled, muttering a soft ‘ _maybe i will, smartass_ ’, wiping away what’s left of the tears and taking a deep breath.

“no, but—.. i know i don’t tell you this a lot, and that’s my fault, but.. i’m proud of you, ethan. and not just as like.. being your boyfriend or your coworker or unofficial mentor or _whatever_.. just, _genuinely_ i feel like it’s been an honor— .. _knowing_ you for as long as i have and watching you grow-..”

mark hesitates on what else to say. ethan didn't mind, he’s already smiling under the praise.

“..seeing you become _you_ , being able to adapt so quickly and fitting into your role like you knew what was going on, and being there to watch it in real time is something i’ll cherish, especially after all of..”

mark gestured to the side.

“that?”

“ _that_.”

mark smiled and looked at the door, turning to the car, trying to peer inside to see if amy was still there. ethan followed his eyes before feeling his phone vibrate in his pocket. it must’ve been from the group chat, mark was going for his already.

12:40am

**peeble**

_hate to break up the moment i can see you guys having but it’d be nice if we can get home soon <:) _

12:40am

**annus**

_sorry amy_

12:40am

**unus**

_our bad <:-) _

12:41am

**annus**

_wym our_

_you were the one crying for 5 minutes_

12:41am

**unus**

_and who comforted me for those 5 minutes and then some_

_you could’ve let me had my breakdown at home but noooooo you had to be a good boyfriend_

mark lightly punched ethan’s arm at that. ethan giggled and punched back.

12:42am

**peeble**

_i’m about to leave without you two_

they looked up at the car as they heard the back side door open, watching as amy stepped out and making eye contact with them across the parking lot as she opened the driver’s side. ethan watches the realization and immediate shock set into mark’s face in his peripheral.

12:43am

**peeble**

_you gave me the keys mark :)_

“ _amy_!”

mark’s immediately running towards the car and ethan can hear amy’s laugh echo quietly as he follows mark, though he’s several times less urgent. he’s not in a rush to get home but if he’s being threatened to be left alone here all night he might jog a lil.

ethan’s allowed into the passenger seat without argument while he just watched as mark and amy banter and argue for a few minutes over the keys, watching as amy successfully wrestled them out of mark’s hands. ethan can’t hold in his laugh as mark is banished to the back seat, turning to face him and giving a teasing ‘ _you comfy back there?_ ’

he looks like a toddler with his arms all crossed and pouting.

“i only gave her the keys because i felt nice.”

“she had your wrist locked ina fuckin iron grip for 5 minutes, dude, there was no way you were winning that.”

mark rubbed his wrists and gave the two of them a look as he got his seatbelt on. safety first.

“i stand by what i said.”

“y’being a big baby.”

“bold words coming from _you_.”

mark gave him an accusing point and amy gently shoo’d his hand away. ethan grinned, looking over at her before resettling into his seat and buckling in and all that.

the drive home was generally quiet and traffic was unusually light, pulling into the driveway sooner than they got to the studio. the dogs can be heard barking as soon as amy opens the car door.

ethan hesitates on leaving the car before mark opens the passenger side door, sticking his head in to give a quick kiss and pulling away just as fast before ethan can process it.

“you’re too tired to drive, c’mon.”

he’s right in that sense but not in the idea that ethan drove himself here.

“didn’t you pick me and spencer up from _my_ house?

mark gives him a gentle look and it finally loads in ethan’s brain that he just needed an (albeit shitty) excuse for him to stay the night.

ethan unbuckles and closes the car door behind him as he follows the pair inside, giving obligatory pets to his smaller friends (and by friends i mean the dogs) before following mark upstairs and collapsing onto the bed as soon as he enters the room. he’ll deal with his suit tomorrow. mark doesn’t audibly question it but his face says otherwise.

ethan hears shuffling and assumes it’s just mark getting ready for bed. his face is buried into a pillow, he can’t physically tell before he feels an added weight a good few minutes later to the right of him, lifting his head and blinking slow.

mark’s out of his suit and in some plain ass cloak shirt with sweatpants and love in his eyes. ethan melts under them.

“you really gotta rep the brand even in your sleep, don’t you?”

“you act like you haven’t worn your own merch to bed, mr i’m-too-exhausted-to-even-take-my-suit-off.”

“you have hands, you can help.”

ethan heard mark mutter a playful ‘always have to do everything myself’ under his breath and watched as he reached over and undid one of the buttons, fumbling around the second and narrowing his eyes before ethan helped get it undone, shouldering the damn thing off and awkwardly letting it slide off the bed and onto the floor. a few tugs to the tie and more fingers fuckin’ around to get _that_ undone before that’s off, too, and joining the suit on the floor. it’s bound to have fur all over it if chica gets her paws on it tomorrow morning, but it’s not like ethan has to wear an outfit like that anytime soon.

ethan hummed as he watched (and felt) mark’s hand slowly side up his side, up the arm and fingers tracing his shoulder, flinching slightly at the neck before finding a home on his cheek. he naturally leaned into the touch on his face, his own hand slowly sliding up mark’s arm to meet with it, wanting to keep it there.

he felt the mattress shift as mark leaned in. ethan’s eyes started to flutter before he noticed there wasn’t anything else, furrowing his eyebrows in concern and looking up from his sleepy haze. mark looked lost in thought as the gears were turning in his head.

“..is there something wrong—”

“your eyes are _hazel_?”

it was a breathy whisper, still wanting to keep the whole ‘intimate-moment-alone-in-low-lighting’ energy, but ethan was already snorting and pulling away, cackling.

“we’ve been dating for months _and_ we’ve been friends for fucking _years_ before that and you _just_ noticed?”

mark was sputtering over his words but he was grinning regardless. “i thought they were green!”

“you’ve _literally_ edited videos with my face in it—”

“not _closeups_!”

“i’ve _told you_ they were hazel!”

“since when!”

ethan’s hands were hiding his face and his near-maniacal laughter was muffled just a little, tears were in the corner of his eyes and his gut started to hurt. this isn’t even that funny in context once he thinks about it, but it’s 1-something am and he’s mildly sleep deprived. everything’s hilarious at 1-something am when you’re mildly sleep deprived.

“no, _no_ , you’re not hiding your face, i wanna see you.” mark’s hands carefully wrapped around ethan’s wrist and slowly peeled them away to reveal his partner, who was proceeding to hide his face into his pillow with a corner of his grin peeking out. “stop hiding, i wanna _look_ , ethan, c’mere.”

one hand took the job of keeping the wrists in place, the other was fishing ethan’s red face out of the pillow, maybe wiping a tear from the corner of his eye while it was at it.

the hand on ethan’s face transitioned to cradling his cheek again, the thumb slowly running under the eyebags. careful and calculating. ethan’s still chuckling, the butterflies in his chest fluttering against his ribcage under his boyfriend’s stare.

mark leaned in to get a better look.

“this is bullshit.”

“my eyes are bullshit?”

“it’s bullshit because they’re _pretty_. you have pretty _everything_.”

“well—” ethan sighed, beginning to lean into the touch again. “i think your eyes are pretty. they’re all warm and inviting and _dark_ and they-.. ..make me feel—..”

“..warm and invited?”

“you know i’m not good with verbalizing stuff.”

“you’re doing surprisingly well for someone who’s been awake for a day and a half.”

oh, that. ethan almost forgot about that. with the whole thing about wrapping up the filming for the final days and doing a death stream for twelve hours straight. he almost forgot about the whole staying-up-for-36-hours thing he accidentally did. that thing.

“..has it really been a day and a half?”

“..ish?”

mark glanced down and used his free arm to tuck under and wrap around ethan’s waist, nudging him closer and humming quietly when he got the hint. ethan wasted no time hiding his face into the crook of mark’s neck in the meantime. the hand cradling ethan’s cheek was gone and onto his back.

ethan was well on the way to falling asleep when he felt mark talk, forcing his eyes open just a crack and glancing over.

“huh?”

“i said i meant what i said to you earlier.”

“..about being proud of me?”

“mhm.”

ethan stared at the wall, shimmying his arms so they could return the favor and wrap around mark. “did you think that.. i thought that you didn’t mean it?”

“..i mean-.. i’m kinda a dick to you, a lot.”

ethan snorted at that, closing his eyes and pressing them against mark’s shoulder, gently. “well—.. ..well maybe that’s your way of showing affection. obviously not-.. in an abusive kinda way—”

“ _god_ , i hope not.”

“—but your way of being a dick is more lighthearted, i think.” ethan murmured. “obviously i know y’don’t mean it, it’s an act you put up for the cameras, y’re just.. built like that.”

it was mark’s turn to snort, his turn to hide his face in ethan’s shoulder and patting his back. ethan’s face was back in the crook of mark’s neck, that whole thing.

“it’s been a day.”

“it’s been a fuckin’ day awlright.”

the silence that followed was nice.

mark hummed when ethan started to shuffle again, letting his thumb massage slow circles into the fabric on his back as he felt ethan’s arm wedge in between them. fingers gracing over mark’s chest. mark used his other hand to slowly hold it, letting his fingers dip into the space ethan’s hand left behind.

“mark.” it’s a low rasp, exhaustion finally creeping up his skin and sinking into his bones and muffled by mark’s shirt.

“ethan.” it’s a quiet rumble, it’s only a name but it’s his favorite one to speak of, playful and warm and gentle.

“..promise me you’ll be here tomorrow?”

mark furrowed his brow in concern as he pulled his face back to try and look at ethan properly, softening when he saw the dried tear tracks from not even half an hour ago shining in the lamp light. his eyes were still closed, probably too tired to keep them open anymore. mark doesn’t blame him.

he strained his neck to plant the lightest kisses on the eyelids.

“i promise i’ll be here tomorrow.” it’s mumbled into his skin, making its permanent home like a tattoo. another kiss to the forehead. another squeeze to ethan’s hand.

“i’m not going anywhere.”

ethan squeezed back and his body let out a sigh as it finally tucked out for the night.

the last thought that popped into ethan’s head that night was hands.

specifically his in mark’s.

**Author's Note:**

> first off: happy 4 months :] how we holding up  
> anyways yawl...... i’m back for more 🏃🏃🏃 with extra fluff!! a sprinkle of angst!! lots of touching!! and not the sexual way either!!! though that’s cool i guess!!! a scene specifically dedicated to hands!! i’m extremely touch starved as u can tell!! Anyway!!  
> i WAS going to leave it at just the [like real people do oneshot](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29360916) but. u guys just had to be super nice. so u get more!! this one technically takes place after the lrpd one i think  
> i also. did not expect this to be as long as it is 🧍 i really just started writing and didn’t stop. this was written over 3 weeks 🧍 the google doc is dated february 16th 🧍 i am never writing this much for one oneshot ever again 🧍  
> i’m still tiptoeing my way around this whole video-blogging-rpf tag i Want To Make It As Correct As Possible when it comes to characterization but. look man i haven’t had a markiplier phase since i was like 9. that was a good 7-8 years ago. i’ve barely known of ethan’s existence until a few months ago. i’m trying 😔  
> shout out to ant for both letting me yoink the hazel eyes bit that he came up on a whim weeks ago before i even properly started writing and for banging out idea after idea for this oneshot AND _ESPECIALLY_ for betaing again even after all the times i bothered the fuck outta u for it... love u sm kiss kiss


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